Yankees' Giambi, Mets' Delgado near end of the line

May 16, 2008

Illustration by Chris Brown/The Journal News

Written by

Sam Borden

Journal News columnist

NEW YORK - Jason Giambi and Carlos Delgado are not running away from Father Time, because, truthfully, they're just not fast enough. Running has never been what they do.

No, Giambi and Delgado are swinging. They are hacking, flailing and swatting at Father Time with their considerable bats, each man trying to knock away the reality that will forever confront all ballplayers of a certain age. For Giambi and Delgado, two sagging and oft-broken-down first basemen playing on opposite sides of this weekend's Subway Series, that time may be now.

They hope not. Oh, do they hope not. Giambi and Delgado have made a living in much the same way, their stardom cresting years ago and then slowly dipping toward the space it currently occupies in record books and memories. The glory days don't seem so long ago, do they?

Their formula for success has gone something like this: Hit for power. Play semi-passable to solid defense. Make the occasional excellent scoop play on a bad throw to the bag. Run the bases when necessary. Be somewhere between a decent and above-average clubhouse presence, with the occasional controversy (or, in Giambi's case, full-blown scandal) forcing you to attempt temporary invisibility.

There is nothing wrong with this life. Nothing at all. Giambi and Delgado have become rich men operating as full-blown sluggers, but each is now confronted with the crossroads that is the final year of one's contract. They are not just playing for the Mets and Yankees this season; they are playing for their jobs.

"I can't think about that - I'm not thinking about that at all," Giambi said recently. "I just want to focus on taking good at-bats. I just want to do what I can right now and the rest of that stuff will take care of itself."

Maybe. There are no guarantees, though, not when the numbers have fallen like this. Giambi is hitting .181 this season with seven home runs and 20 RBI; Delgado is hitting .222, with five homers and 17 RBI. Giambi is slugging more than 80 points below his career average, Delgado nearly 200. Both men swing from the left side of the plate and there was a time when, if they turned on a fastball and got their bat head out in front, the sound was like when someone steps on a potato chip. It was a crunch, a demolition that could only end with the ball disappearing into a glove in the right field bleachers. That sound isn't heard so often anymore. It's more of a thud now.

"It's about rhythm for me," Delgado said before a recent home game at Shea Stadium. "When I'm seeing the ball well and in a good rhythm, I know I'll be able to hit."

There have been a few encouraging signs from both players over the past week. Giambi hit homers in back-to-back games on May 8-9, and has been better this month. Delgado has been hot - in a relative sense - as well, with seven hits in his last 24 at-bats. They are still albatrosses on their respective teams, still players that don't figure to come anywhere close to earning their money this season. Delgado is making $16 million in 2008, which seems obscene until you realize that Giambi is making $23 million. Nearly $40 million for first basemen in New York this year, $40 million for players who, in a different salary structure, might have been cut by their respective teams already. If that seems ridiculous, it is because it is.

"I'm not striking out so I know I'm pretty locked in," Giambi said. "It's just a matter of getting some hits, getting the ball to drop for me. I've got to stop hitting the ball at people. I know what I can do. I know I can make it happen."

So he says. Delgado, too, claims to be able to find the magic that has been steadily seeping out of his fingertips. But what if they do? While they may be able to help their teams this season - a nice gesture for the salaries they're earning - the reality of their futures cannot look promising.

The "big slugger" is fading away from Major League Baseball. Barry Bonds was a better hitter than either Giambi or Delgado last year and no one has even hinted at signing him. Mike Piazza can't get a job either. Teams are looking to get younger and faster and more versatile. They want players who can hit and run and throw and bunt and steal bases and field their positions; they don't want players who might be able to hit home runs like they used to.

Last Friday, Willie Randolph put Delgado in the seven hole in the lineup, the lowest he'd hit in any batting order since 1995. Delgado said Randolph had told him of this decision in a brief meeting and, when a reporter asked if Randolph had offered up a reason, Delgado hesitated before mumbling something about matchups and lefty/righty sequences.

It sounded weak and, even if it was true, the underlying message was something different. Delgado is not the force he once was, and neither is Giambi. They are different now, two Herculean hitters trying to summon up the strength needed to continue playing the game they have been a part of for so long.

It is a difficult battle, maybe impossible. Father Time is approaching, and for two first basemen on opposite sides of the city, there is nothing left to do but keep swinging.